05:12 AM – Metro City, N.P.U. Headquarters
The sterile hallways always felt colder before dawn.
Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, shadows cutting across the tiled floor in clinical slices.
Adrian adjusted the collar of his jacket as he pushed through the double doors, boots echoing sharp against steel and silence.
No matter how many times he walked these halls, the air never got easier to breathe. Too clean. Too rehearsed.
Behind a cluttered desk, Captain Elias Ward looked up from a stack of reports. His uniform was crisp, but fatigue carved into the corners of his eyes, dark crescents beneath.
The man's age showed more these days—broad-shouldered still, but the streaks of silver running through his cropped hair betrayed years of battles neither of them had asked for.
"Adrian." Elias greeted, voice a little softer than the protocol demanded.
"Thanks for coming in early."
Adrian gave a short nod, but didn't sit.
"I didn't think it was optional."
A faint smile ghosted over Elias's tired features.
"Still the same smartass." Then, the smile slipped.
"You know I wouldn't drag you in unless it mattered."
The folder slid across the desk. Black cover, stamped [N.P.U. EYES ONLY] in heavy red ink. Adrian's hand hesitated above it for a second—just long enough for Elias to notice before he flipped it open.
The pages inside crackled faintly, lines of text occasionally flickering with faint digital distortion, like the file itself was resisting being read.
FILE ACCESS: GRANTED
SUBJECT: Worker Disappearances – South Metro Industrial Zone
Irina K. Dovale – MISSING. Last shift: 08/21. Age: 29. Night worker, chemical disposal sector.
Marcus H. Leigh – MISSING. Last shift: 08/23. Age: 34. Transport operator, documented complaints of unsafe conditions.
Daniel R. Pi3rc3 – MISSING. Last shift: 08/25. Age: 41. Senior maintenance. Final logged message: "Still hearing scr—[DATA CORRUPTED]."
Unnamed Male – Recovered deceased. The Body heavily deteriorated. Abn0rmal muscular growth noted. Autopsy incomplete due to [SIGNAL INTERRUPTION]
NOTES:
Disappearances linked to Nexo pharmaceutical Corporation's South Metro facility.
Recruitment method: promises of higher pay + extended medical coverage.
Convoys seen moving at irregular hours, destinations: sub-levels [███].
Informants reference trial injections of an "Enhanc3ment Serum."
OBSERVATIONS:
Subjects experience rapid tissue distortion within 3–6 hours.
Psychological collapse: aggression, compulsive violence, erasure of identity.
Survival rate beyond 48 hours: 0%.
RECOMMENDATION:
Infiltrate South Metro Nexo Pharmaceutical corporation facility.
Secure any surviving samples of Cauteris [Antidote]/ s3rum schematics.
Retrieve living witnesses if possible.
DO NOT ENGAGE altered subjects without clearance.
AUTHORIZATION:
Operation sanctioned by Nemesis Protocol Unit (N.P.U.)
Commanding Officer: Captain Elias Ward.
Field Lead: Adrian Cole.
...
Adrian exhaled slowly through his teeth, the words on the page twisting in his head long after he closed the folder.
"You want me to walk into that nightmare."
Elias leaned back, rubbing a hand across his jaw.
"I wouldn't if I had anyone else. You know that." His voice lowered, soft but steady.
"Off the record, Adrian? If I could burn that place to the ground myself, I would. But orders came down from above. They want answers. You're the only one I trust to get them."
Even though Elias was a friend, his words were still an order. And Adrian knew it.
He let out a dry laugh—without humor, without warmth.
"You're asking me to go back into Nexopharma's shadow. You know what that place is."
"I know." Elias's gaze didn't waver.
"But we don't get to say no."
The silence hung, heavy and sharp, until Elias slid an earpiece across the desk.
"Helicopter'll pick you up in twenty."
Adrian slipped the earpiece into his pocket, the folder still clutched tight in his other hand.
His pulse drummed against the sterile walls as he turned away, boots carrying him into the waiting hall.
Even as a friend, Elias couldn't protect him from this.
The sterile hall stretched long and empty, humming with the faint vibration of unseen machinery. Adrian leaned against the wall, the folder still warm in his hand, thumb tracing the edge of the stamped lettering like it might cut him open.
The fluorescent lights above flickered once. Twice. Then steadied.
He hated this place. Not the N.P.U.—not Elias. The machine. The endless cycle of orders dressed up as choices.
Adrian closed his eyes. Images crept in anyway. Half-remembered screams. Faces he couldn't save. The whisper of Nexopharma's name was enough to sour his gut.
Enhancement serum.
Subjects collapsing in less than six hours.
Aggression. Violence. No identity left.
He forced the folder tighter under his arm, knuckles whitening.
Even with Elias's voice in his ear, steady as it was, Adrian knew the truth: once he stepped onto that helicopter, there was no walking back.
A faint gust rattled the hall vents. Cold. Sterile. Final.
He muttered under his breath—words no one else would hear.
"God help me.."
And then, in the distance, the low thrum of rotor blades began to rise.